


Hard Weeks and Soft Sheets

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Hard Weeks and Soft Sheets

Silky sheets. Soft hands. Softer skin. His lips glided over her breasts, silky skin interrupted by hardened peaks. A delicate tuft of hair floated just underneath his waiting tongue. The taste was intoxicating, filling his mouth. A sweetness he’d never tasted before.

Spencer’s eyes popped open. A sheen of sweat had fallen over his body and against the sheets, he could feel himself, already hard against the softness of the sheets. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stirred. That was one hell of a dream, he thought to himself.

The sheets began to stir behind him. Was he still dreaming? He pinched himself and turned over, seeing the woman from his dreams. What the hell happened?

“Bad day?”

“Bad week,” he replied. He motioned to the bartender for a drink and turned to her. “What about you?”

“Same here.” She didn’t want to talk and neither did he.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

It all started with a smile.

Her face looked different than it had the night before. When their eyes met, she had been downtrodden, eyes blank, trying to compartmentalize. He’d never been able to do that well - his feelings had always been worn on his sleeve, despite his attempts to hide them, so he turned to the drink. It never lasted for long, that high, that dulling of the senses, but it took his mind of what he saw on a daily basis enough. Enough for a time.

Maybe more than a time.

As he looked across the bed, his breath synching up with her own, the alcohol and the whole reason he’d gone to the bar in the first place faded to the background. They’d gone home together. How drunk had he gotten? What was her name?

A hot wash of shame fell over him as it dawned upon him that he didn’t know her name. “Y/N,” he whispered almost inaudibly. Her name was Y/N. Her mother had just died and she was drowning her sorrows in alcohol - and in him. He was humbled by that notion, maybe more than he should’ve been. 

Rattled breaths escaped him as he took in his surroundings. He was home, so they’d come back to his apartment. He remembered her asking whose place was closer and deciding it was just easier to head to his apartment. 

“Mmmm,” Y/N groaned. With her eyes closed, she brought her hand to her head and rubbed at her temples. She opened her eyes, a flash of confusion playing across her features before the recognition came. “Spencer.” It was a statement, not a question. Apparently, she hadn’t remembered much either. “Is this your apartment?”

“Yes,” he said softly. She was beautiful. He hadn’t really taken in her features the night before; they had been cloaked in sadness and had only peeked out of the shadows. “Do you…?” He felt so awkward asking if she remembered what happened, but she blushed. 

“I don’t remember getting here, but I do remember what happened when we did get here.” A small smile played across her features as her fingers raked against the sheets, and despite the dim lights of the room, her eyes lit up. “I know these may just seem like words, but I d-don’t do this often. I mean…going home with strange men, not that your strange, but you know…I’ve never gone home with someone…like this.”

Spencer chuckled. He could tell she was telling the truth; his job allowed him to ready body language better than most, but he hoped she’d understand that he meant the words just the same. “I don’t either…ever,” he swallowed. “I know that this may be a little backwards, but would you want to grab breakfast together? Maybe get to know each other out of bed?”

As she giggled, she turned her head into the pillow, slowly peeking out and reached across the bed to cover his hand with hers. “I would like that. From what I can remember from last night, I already like what I know.”

“Me too,” he said, moving underneath the sheets to go and get dressed. She did the same, but both of them stopped at the edge of the bed, the blankets still covering their morning-chilled bodies. 

Again, their faces blushed. After last night, one might think they’d already seen enough of each other for embarrassment to fall to the wayside, but it had been fogged with alcohol and bogged down with unclear intentions. “Spencer, this may sound stupid, but…would you mind turning around, so I can run into the shower?”

“Sure,” he said, putting his hands in front of his eyes and smiling. “Go ahead. I’ll take a quick one when you’re done and then we can go.”

“Sounds good.” He felt her lift off of the bed, her footsteps getting further away before returning. A small kiss pressed against his forehead and he smiled, listening as she ran back into the bathroom with a laugh. Definitely not what either expected, but maybe it was exactly what they needed.


End file.
